Who am I to question the way a door is opened?
Push. Pull. Lift latch. Turn knob. “Abracadabra”
So what if I choose incorrectly at least half of the time?
Enter. Exit. Round and round.
When last we talked I caught a glimmer of remorse. Maybe you would choose a different door this time, or maybe find a new way to open it.
We were friends once. Invisible doors were slammed. I lost a figurative finger.
All I’m saying, is I’ll help you open that door again. We can lean against it together.
Doing the best I can with what I have
kind of sad, but not so bad with cheese. cheese not provided.
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MARK PETRUSKA | WRITER
Short essays about novels and other fictional works
By Ian Garrabrant
Home of Micropoetry, Literature, art and philosophy.
Just a fiction writer, trying to reach the world.
I'd curtsy but I'm drunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 
When we visited the Science Museum in Kensington c1950 my brother and I enjoyed going backwards and forwards through a red beam that opened a door
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I have to admit that I find revolving doors challenging. I’ll almost always try to find a different way into a building.
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There was one in Switzerland that stated in 4 languages not to touch it. If you touched it the revolving would stop. I am still confused by this.
But I don’t understand this post. You lost a friend in an argument and the figurative door is closed but you want to open it again?
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I think you’ve got it….It started out being just about doors. Then it wandered off on its on. I’m not really a poet, I just pretend to be sometimes. 😉
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Just went through the same thing …..it’s why the Asians have hanging beads….they are always both…….
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Yes. Revolving doors and I do NOT get along.
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I have a couple of phobias. Revolving doors and down going escalators.
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Yeah…these doors are a bad idea. Whoever designed them should not have been allowed… If you don’t move fast enough at the other side too they belt you in the back.
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I’m always afraid my shirt will get caught somehow.
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I don’t blame you. They are awful things.
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I’ve opened and closed doors with both friends and family over the years, and still have moments where I ponder another attempt to open wide. Luck hasn’t been on my side though, and most of the time I find the door stays closed for a reason…
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I have two younger brothers that I adore. The youngest one, though, has a wife who I cannot stand. She lies when the truth would serve her better. And she’s a trump fan. I don’t want the door to open, but my brother is very dear to me. It’s tough.
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My daughter spent a full five minutes almost wetting herself laughing after my inability to use a revolving door became apparent. Normal ones I can get but the ones where you aren’t allowed to push as they automatically stop – well hysterical.
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They flummox me!
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Very nice poem. Any chance of locating that disappeared digit. Sure hope so.
Regards,
Reginald Rueful
Portal, Pennsylvania
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It’s all in my head. 😉
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